Free
by this.is.goodbye
Summary: The story of what happens in those nineteen years between the end of DH and the epilogue. Contains DH spoilers. H/G, R/Hr, all canon to the books. Rated a high T for sexual content and language.
1. Always

**(A/N: This is the story of what happened in those nineteen years after the Battle of Hogwarts. This is my first fan fiction, although I've written numerous fiction pieces using characters of my own invention. I love reviews. Thanks so much!) **

**Chapter warnings: Language**

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood together, the inseparable trio, in the middle of what used to be the Great Hall. Tears rolled freely down Hermione's face and she made no motion to wipe them away as she clutched Ron's hand. She buried her head into his shoulder and he held her, still staring at the carnage of the last place any of them had believed was safe. It wasn't, obviously. It was destroyed.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, locked in an embrace, and looked away at once, feeling as though he was intruding on something private. He sighed and walked away, looking around at the only place he had truly ever been able to call home. Destroyed. The lives of so many he loved, completely ruined. Fred. Tonks. Lupin. The last man that had been like a father to him… gone… the weight of the loss crashed over him like a physical weight and he fell down onto his knees. There were few onlookers, most of the weary veterans of this wizarding war ready to dispose of their dead, return home, and begin the heavy burden of grieving.

Harry, resisting his own tears, looked back at Hermione and Ron who were wrapped up in all of the Weasleys all of the sudden. A pang of longing ran through Harry. The war was over, Voldemort was dead, but nothing could bring his parents back. Nothing could ease this pain. He loved the Weasleys and Hermione, and he knew he'd always have a home with them, he'd always be part of their family. But it was not the same, and everyone knew it. He turned away from their family, suddenly unable to look at anyone, because everyone was embracing each other, while Harry sat there, completely alone.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there- long enough for his legs to fall asleep- when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Recognizing immediately her familiar scent, he stood up and looked the most beautiful girl in the world straight in the eyes. He felt Ginny take in his disheveled appearance, the trace of the few tears he hadn't been able to stop, and as he stared at her face, he saw that her own dirt streaked face was streaked with tears as well and he realized he hadn't ever seen her cry.

The two wrapped each other fiercely in an embrace that lasted who knew how long. Ginny placed a loving hand on Harry's face and kissed his cheek before taking his hand and leading him over to the Weasleys. It was only then that Harry saw the blue boot sitting in the midst of all of them, and he barely grabbed the Portkey before they all got whisked away to the Burrow.

Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, George, Percy, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry all looked at each others' faces, searching for an explanation. Surely, Fred wasn't gone. It was all some elaborate prank and he'd be waiting inside for them, laughing and them and celebrating because the war was over. Finally. But they couldn't find the answers they wanted, and so they all walked into the Burrow, save Harry and Ron who both stalked off in different directions away from the house.

Harry turned around and saw Ginny watching him as she was ushered inside by her mother, and then saw Ron, stalking away in a matter much similar to his. Harry pondered for a moment following him, but saw his face contorted with as much grief as he'd ever seen his best friend with in his life, and, assessing his own feelings, decided against it. This was something they both had to handle on their own.

…

Hermione and Ginny sat together on the couch, feeling out of place as Molly and Fleur bustled around, preparing food and drink for everyone, and the men sat at the table, minus George who had disappeared immediately to his room, their faces all sullen but tear-free. Hermione looked at Ginny, who, aside from Harry, Ron, Luna and Neville was her closest friend, and saw the dried tears on her face as she watched Harry sitting in the yard. Ginny sighed and turned around, sinking into the couch. Her voice was quiet and wavered a little, but to her credit, she did not cry. Ginny had always been extremely strong.

"He thinks it's his fault. All of this. Us. Loosing Fred. I can tell. And he misses having a family." Hermione looked at Ginny incredulously, unable to believe how easily she was able to read Harry, especially because the past few years, Harry and Ron had both been complete mysteries as far as Hermione was able to decipher. She shook her head.

"But he has your family, he has me, Neville, Lup-" Hermione gasped, for she had been about to group Lupin in with Harry's adopted family. "Anyway, and Hagrid.. he has so many…" Ginny shook her head fiercely, her red hair flying everywhere.

"But they aren't his, 'Mione. He wants what I have and what you'll have as soon as you take the enchantments off your parents. Two people that gave birth to him, that love him and put him ahead of everything in the entire world. And… he knows he's not going to get that."

Hermione shrugged and took a turn looking at Ron out the window, his face an unmistakable mask of grief and pain. Ginny arose from the couch and headed out the back door, wiping dirt and tears from her face.

"I'll be back." Hermione nodded and watched Ginny walk over to Harry, who was bent over in inconsolable grief, and place a hand on his head. She then looked at Ron, wishing she had this instinct of Ginny's, that taught her exactly what to do, what to say, to take away Ron's pain. Because she knew now what she had consciously realized for the first time when he'd kissed her. She loved him. That was why they fought the way they did, that was why she had hated him with Lavender and why he'd been such a complete ass about Krum. They loved each other. This in turn brought Hermione more grief. If they were in love, if she loved him, shouldn't she be able to march out there the way Ginny could and make Ron feel better?

As it was, however, she didn't know what to do or what to say, so she stayed inside, staring at him.

…..

Ginny placed a hand on Harry's shoulder before sinking down to sit by him and grabbing his hand. She knew he was in more pain than even she, who had just lost a brother, could possibly imagine. And she wasn't sure how to console him, but she knew immediately she'd done the right thing by coming out here because he clutched her, and she felt his face was wet. She lifted his chin gently so she could look him in the eyes as she spoke, showing him how firmly she meant it.

"Harry, I know how much it hurts. Shit. I don't know how much it hurts and I'm sorry for that. But you have got to believe me. This is NOT your fault." Harry looked her in the eyes, his face contorted in the way only guys' faces get when they're trying to be strong.

"Gin… It is. This was my destiny, to be left alone, to loose everyone. Never yours, never Ron's, never George's. I've gotten so many members of your family killed, injured, maimed, just because of who I am. Without me you'd be so much better off." Ginny smiled sadly at him and wiped his hair, held down by sweat, off of his face.

"That may be true, but Harry, I…" She gulped, because she knew the words she was about to say were true, and it scared her. "I love you, Harry. And I would be lost, had you not let Ron sit in your compartment your first year. I love you." She repeated it again, with a smile, because she knew it was true. She studied his face, scared she had said the wrong thing, but she immediately became convinced that it was right, because something in his eyes changed. They still had an unbelievable amount of hurt in them, it was true, but something seemed a little more… healed.

"I love you too, Ginny. I always have." And with that, he kissed her, softly, at first, and then with an urgency that she immediately returned. She broke it off after what felt like decades, resting her head on his shoulder, letting herself finally believe what she had been scared to- that he still cared for her. She sat up abruptly and looked him in the eyes before smacking him across the face. She resisted laughing as his face contorted and bewilderment colored it.

"Bloody hell, what was that for?" Ginny looked him fiercely in the eyes.

"That was for letting me think you were dead, you prick." And then she kissed him, with more intensity than she ever had before.

"And that was for not actually being dead, because I'd be lost without you." With that, much to Ginny's delight, he smiled, and it was small, and it threatened to fade quickly, but it was a smile. She leaned forward until their noses nearly touched.

"I love being able to make you smile." With that, Harry stood up and picked Ginny up with him. Ginny giggled in delight as he swirled her around and kissed her again before setting her lightly on her feet.

"What on earth was that for?" Not that Ginny minded. She was positive that Harry could literally see how her heart was pounding out of her chest.

"Ginny. We're free." She raised a red eyebrow at him, questioning him. He laughed a little.

"There's no more fighting, no more war, no more hiding. Voldemort is dead. He's never going to hurt me, he will never hurt anyone ever again. We're free to just…. Be." She smiled at him, and even though Ginny hadn't been with them, she hadn't been separated from family and friends and on the run, she could see how simply delighted Harry was that he was free, and him being happy, made her happy. She kissed him softly on the cheek and held his arm, her head on his shoulder, as they walked back into the house.

Ginny let Harry support her, because she was wiped clean of any energy. She was strong, it came with having the life she'd had, not to mention dating Harry Potter, but she was so completely exhausted from the past year's events. Hell, the past 7 years' events. She let herself fall into the arms that she trusted to keep her supported. She never wanted to loose this. She'd lost so many people that were important to her, but she was still with Harry. And it was all that mattered.

…

Hermione smiled half heartedly as Harry and Ginny came in. They nodded in her direction before heading up the stairs. She sighed. She half wanted to run up to Ginny and ask what she had said, what magic words had turned Harry from a grief-stricken, crying, brooding person to one that was holding her as they ascended the stairs. But at the same time she knew it wouldn't work, whatever it was, for Ron. Ron was different. She knew now that she loved him, as much as it pained her to admit- she didn't like being controlled by emotions- but she still didn't know how to comfort him. However, it was becoming more and more painfully clear that she would be the only one that would get through to him.

She climbed off of the sofa, her legs tingling as they came back to life, and she started to the back door.

"Be careful, dear." She turned and saw Mrs. Weasley standing there, fresh clothes and a cleaner face, although it was none less grief-stricken than it had been.

"Ron… he's a tricky one. If he snaps… don't take it personally." Hermione pushed a stray piece of dirt-streaked hair out of her face and nodded, Mrs. Weasley's words not comforting her in the slightest as she made the walk to Ron. It felt as though it took forever, and he didn't even look up. As she walked, she thought of everything she could say. There were so many words, and they strung together in her head, not even forming sentences. But when she got there, she just sat by him, without saying a word. She placed a hand on top of his, and he clutched it fiercely, her only sign that he was even alive anymore.

They sat like that for at least two hours, Hermione estimated, based on the disappearance of the sun. She guessed it was eight or later. That was when the first droplet of rain hit her face. As it began sprinkling, Ron looked up at her, his face completely unreadable. What scared Hermione was the complete lack of emotion in his voice. She would prefer complete malice to the dead, hardened voice he spoke in.

"Why are you here?" Hermione stuttered for a moment. Why was she there? She didn't quite know. She could see through the window everybody else inside who were, if not happy, comfortable, sitting around the fire with tea in hand, Ginny wrapped in Harry's arms, both of them clean and dry, while she and Ron sat outside, rain pounding their heads, dirt and dried blood caking both of them. It wasn't either of their finer moments. She looked at Ron, still not speaking, scared she'd say the wrong thing.

"I… I wouldn't want… I mean… I… I lo- I care about you, Ron." She looked at him helplessly. She couldn't tell him she loved him because it was still too buried, too deep. But that did it. He uncurled from the tight ball he'd been in and put his head in his hands. She cautiously wrapped an arm around him, but he removed it and pulled her into his lap, burying his head into the crook of her neck. He looked up after a while, staring at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. She wasn't used to this Ron. She was used to the Ron that pretended to be tough, pretended he didn't care. Hermione didn't like the vulnerability in his eyes… it made her feel vulnerable, herself. Still, she stroked his face a little.

By then, it was a complete downpour, and the mud streaked off of both of their faces in rivers, but neither of them cared. Ron leaned down until their faces were nearly touching, and Hermione feared he would soon become aware of how his touch electrified her senses. Hermione whispered, and Ron could barely hear her over the rain.

"I w-was so scared… it could've been you." Ron looked pensive for a moment.

"Would it have mattered? If it was?" Hermione's jaw dropped. She sputtered a little, unable to formulate words.

"Ron… Ye- how could you even… Of course it would have bloody mattered! You…" Tears began to pour from her eyes in earnest, blending in with the torrential downpour of raindrops. "You mean everything, to me, Ron." Ron scoffed.

"Yeah, me and Harry, I know." Hermione shook her head fiercely, her auburn hair coming unplastered from her neck and splaying everywhere.

"No, Ron. I love Harry, I do. As a brother. But you…" She bit her lip, all of the sudden completely uncomfortable with the emotions pouring out of her and Ron both. Both of them rarely bared themselves metaphorically, like this, and she could sense it was a strange occurrence for both of them.

"I would die, if I lost you, and never told you… how I feel." Ron's eyes brightened a little and Hermione smiled, tears still running down her face.

And just like that, his lips were on hers again. Every nerve in her body lit up. He kissed her urgently, as if he was a man dying of thirst and she was water. She sat there, unmoving, for a moment, as he kissed her, completely shocked, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her hands in his red hair. She didn't know what she was doing and this was perhaps one of the only moves she'd ever made completely on impulse like this. She didn't plan, she didn't analyze, she didn't even think. She just kissed him, and somehow they both ended up horizontal on the wet, muddy yard, kissing each other with more passion than Hermione would've guessed either of them could possibly possess.

Ron broke them apart first and pulled her up, Hermione squealing a little as he did. He looked her in the eyes and took her face in his calloused hands.

"Promise me, Hermione." She looked at him and melted. Did he have any clue what his eyes did to her? She whispered, completely out of breath.

"Promise you what?" His face twisted a little and he looked apprehensive about speaking.

"Promise me that you'll be mine. That you'll put up with me when I'm a complete prat, and yeah, I know I am one. That you won't…" He looked up into the rain as if his words lay in the clouds. "That you won't leave me. Cause I don't know if I could take it if you did." He looked at her, and in that instant, she knew. From the second she'd walked into Ron and Harry's compartment that first year. She'd been destined for him and he'd been molded for her. Their fates lay within each other. And part of Hermione hated it. This was Ron. He _was_ a prat. He treated her like dirt more than she'd ever admit. But just as the sun rose and set each day, this was natural and this was what was supposed to happen.

Hermione kissed him, not passionately, but with the soft tenderness his request warranted.

"Always."

**(A/N: Sorry this chapter is long- I promise the next will be shorter. :3 I just couldn't find a good place to end. Reviews make me smile. (: )**


	2. Over

**(A/N: Oh my goodness! Thank you all so much for the incredible feedback- 10 reviews, among other things, in a mere 2 hours? You all are incredible. :3 I hope to live up to expectations!)**

Ron smiled at Hermione's response and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her inside despite her squeals. He nearly dropped her and both of their cheeks burned red as the entire living room, which had an aura of cheeriness over it, despite the devastation that was the lack of Fred, stopped their conversations and tasks and stared at the couple, both of them dripping wet. Ginny raised an eyebrow at her brother, but he nodded at Harry, who's lap she was perched on, as if to say, if you get to do that with him, I'll take her.

Ron set Hermione gently on the floor and Hermione sighed, sad that he'd stopped holding her. It was as if, now that they knew they were not in fact going to die immediately, she wanted to spend every moment of her life in his arms, living where she should have been all along. She didn't want to be apart from him anymore, now that she knew that this wasn't a dream. As if he could read her mind, he smiled at her and linked his pinky in hers as he addressed the room, a look of chagrined pride on his face.

"Erm… yeah… so… we're just gonna go… wash up and … yeah…" He grabbed Hermione's hand then and practically dragged her up the stairs, ignoring the looks of shock and awe from everyone else, who didn't know about Hermione and Ron yet. Hermione giggled, feeling more and more like a foolish first year the longer she was with Ron. He pressed her against a wall, kissing her again.

"Why Miss Granger, I didn't know you could laugh." Hermione gasped in fake anger and shoved him off, stomping off and pretending to be mad. She opened the door to the room she shared with Ginny and slammed it in Ron's face. He, however, caught the door and ran in, grabbing her by the waist. Hermione squealed but kissed him again, letting herself get totally lost in him for the second time that night. She shivered- the house was extremely cold and she was soaked to the bone. Ron grabbed her and although she felt him shivering as well, it made her feel warmer, being in his arms. She reached up and kissed him again, and again, and then he picked her up.

She wrapped her legs around him and kissed him harder than she'd ever kissed in her life. She tried her very hardest to tell him everything she was unable to say, for it seemed kissing Ron was the only time she lost herself completely and didn't plan or analyze. She still found herself utterly tongue-tied when trying to express her feelings.

Somehow, without realizing it, they ended up on Hermione's bed, still completely wrapped up in each other. Hermione fumbled with the buttons on Ron's shirt but he stopped kissing her and grabbed her wrists, groaning a little. She looked at him inquisitively. Wasn't he, as the guy, supposed to want this?

"Trust me, Mione. I do. Want to. So much. God. Uh. Yeah. Just. Not. Now." He sputtered a little and got up, setting her gently on the bed. He kissed her forehead gently.

"I'm going to take a shower. I'll be back. I lo- I'll be back." She nodded, biting her lip a little as he left.

Hermione went into the bathroom and peeled off her wet clothes, that stuck to her like a second skin. In the back of her mind, she knew it was because of all the tragedy. She knew, too, it wasn't the right time. She wanted her first time to be special. And Ron… Ron was special. But in this room, with the entire family below, mere hours after the most devastating event any of them would probably ever witness? He was right. Not now. Still, Hermione stared at herself, standing in only her bra and panties, in the mirror, and wondered if something was wrong with her. After all, shouldn't it have been her saying no? She knew she wasn't a pretty girl. She never claimed to be pretty. She was smart, and it was as if you could be smart or pretty. You rarely saw smart and pretty girls.

She over analyzed things, she was presumptuous, she was average, she was mousy. Hermione stared in the mirror and picked apart every single one of her flaws until she was crying. God. What did Ron see when he looked at her? She didn't understand it. Especially now, with blood and dirt and water all over her. She was the most unattractive thing that had ever existed and yet she and Ron had just shared a moment of complete and utter passion.

Hermione didn't understand it but was sure that she would not find the answer to this particular problem in any books. Pity, that's where she always found her favorite answers.

Twenty minutes and a layer of dirt gone later, Hermione came out of the bathroom in a tank top and shorts, looking surprised to see Ron sitting on her bed, in pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He looked at her and looked almost nervous. Hermione smiled at him, showing that she wasn't in the least mad at him, and that she understood. She went and sat by him, resting her head on his shoulder. The excitement from earlier was gone and now that she was sure that Ron wasn't going to do anything dangerous or rash, she could let herself grieve. Except for the small fact that she hated emotion. She hated expressing it, she hated dealing with other peoples'.

So, as the first few tears dripped off her nose, she tried in vain to wipe them away and hide them from Ron. He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, and Hermione was astounded by how sensitive and sweet he was being. She wasn't used to it. She held her breath, trying not to let him hear the silent sobs escaping from her throat, but he could feel her shuddering, trying to keep it all in. He kissed her head again and when he spoke, his voice was strangely calm and quiet.

"It's over 'Mione. You're allowed to cry. You're allowed… You're allowed to not be strong for a little bit." She looked up at him tearfully.

"I'm not too good at… at… not.. being strong, Ron." Even as she said it, her voice quivered. For the second time that day, although it was nearly midnight by then, Ron pulled Hermione into his lap. He stroked her hair and tilted her head so he could once again look her in the eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Okay? It doesn't. It's over. It's all over and we still have each other and Harry and Ginny, Mum and Dad and George, Bill and Fleur…" Hermione broke down then. It was all of it, the pressure of the past day, the past year, the past seven years, crashing over her like a tidal wave. And she cried. She cried for nearly an hour, letting Ron comfort her. Letting herself let go. She couldn't stop herself anymore. And he held her, and she cried. It felt marvelous, having someone care about her this way.


	3. Shell Cottage

**( A/N: Thank you for the reviews, everyone. I've had a few people talk about 'balancing the couples out', and rest assured, I am and shall. The previous was entirely Ron and Hermione, but I already have the first 7 chapters written, and it's completely balanced. This story also isn't entirely about romance- there will be times where it's not 'about' couples at all. I don't want to give too much away, but rest assured, Ron and Hermione aren't going to 'hijack' my story, as one reviewer said. )**

Harry sat on the overstuffed loveseat, the most beautiful girl in the world sitting in his lap, asleep. He inhaled her scent and smiled. Something flowery and something vanilla just mixed together. It was a completely Ginny smell and he loved it. They were the only ones left in the living room of the Burrow. He looked at the clock above the mantel and laughed a little. It read 2:34am. Harry hadn't slept for two days now, but he didn't want to. He loved studying Ginny, the contours of her face and her body, the bright, fierce red of her hair, that set off her personality. The dried tears on her face that mourned the brother she had lost. The long lashes that fluttered ever so slightly when he planted a soft kiss on her head.

Harry yawned and gently attempted to lift Ginny off of his lap and laid her on the couch. He smiled at his success until he heard her stirring. He turned around and her bright green eyes had fluttered open. He smiled at her.

"Sorry. I tried not to wake you." She shook her head.

"I don't mind, Harry." She smiled and stood up, wrapping her arms around her raven-haired knight in shining armor and kissed him softly. He smiled and buried his head in her. She giggled a little, in a breathless sort of way, and the sound, the sound of a laugh, was so foreign to Harry that he stared at her, taken aback.

"What's so funny?" Ginny's eyes were full of more happiness than Harry had seen in anyone for over a year.

"I just… It's over. The finality of it is so… you're mine." She admitted, finally. She had been scared, in the year he was gone. He'd said the chances of him meeting someone new were slim, and she knew that he cared about Hermione in the most platonic way, but she'd been scared that he wouldn't want her. She was so relieved that he did still want her. She tried to tell him this, and she figured he understood all of her unspoken words. He kissed her one last time and they walked up the stairs, hand in hand.

"Goodnight, Gin. I… I love you." With those three simple words, Ginny's face lit up incredulously. She'd never believed it before, but now, something was different, and she did.

"I love you too, Harry."

…

Harry was already in pajamas and half asleep when he heard a soft knock at his door. He smiled as he opened it and saw his favorite girl standing in the doorway, clad, Harry couldn't help but notice, in only a sports bra and a pair of extremely short shorts that he assumed was her night time attire.

"Can I stay here? Ron and 'Mione are, well, it looks like they fell asleep crying and stuff and I just… it's weird and…" She trailed off helplessly, not really having a plan for what she was supposed to say, now that she was here. Harry was still in a trance, for it was the least clad he'd ever seen her and, well, he was a bloke after all. But he broke out of his revelry just as Ginny was beginning to doubt herself and nodded frantically, trying to control his thoughts.

"Sure." She smiled gratefully and followed him in. They both silently crawled into their separate beds and Harry whispered at the light,

"Nox."

Sleep would not come easily now, to Harry. He laid there for what had to be at least thirty minutes when he heard her.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice was so small and helpless that Harry sprang out of bed and ran the short distance over to the one that was normally Ron's. To his shock, Ginny was crying.

"Ginny? Ginny, what's wrong?" She sniffled.

"I just… everything. Will you just…" She motioned to the half of the bed she wasn't occupying and clutched her knees. Harry nodded, understanding immediately and crawled into the bed next to her, clutching her close to him. When he did, he swore loudly.

"Gin. You're freezing." Ginny nodded helplessly.

"I get cold when I'm stressed." She shrugged as though it was a common fact, although Harry had never heard of it in his life, he could tell it wasn't a matter worth pressing, so he just brought her cold figure closer to his. She was so small.

Ginny huddled in Harry's arms, letting his warm arms hold her. She felt his hands on her bare stomach and shivered, though not from the cold. She wanted, more than anything, to be with him, in every physical way possible. But not now. She was too strung out, she was too lost and helpless. The two laid down, still wrapped together. Harry kissed her neck, then her ear, then the top of her head, and Ginny shivered again. If he only knew what he did to her, emotionally, physically, everything. She turned around so his arms were still around her but he was looking her in the eyes.

"I feel safe, Harry. I…" She bit her lip. She and Hermione both, she knew, were the strong ones. It was what they both had gotten; Ginny had grown up with all her brothers, Hermione had grown up with Ron and Harry. They didn't express emotion. But Ginny did her best, remaining tearless.

"I feel like as long as I'm here nothing can hurt me." Harry smiled. Him being who he was, he loved, absolutely cherished being able to make one person feel safe, instead of bringing fear and devestation and pain wherever he went like the human tornado he was.

"You are, Gin."

…

"WHAT THE BLOODY FUCKING HELL." Ginny and Harry were awoken rather suddenly by the roaring of none other than Ron Weasley.

"Shit, Ron. It's not what it looks-" Ginny sputtered. He looked at his sister and his best friend, the fact that the former had a very little amount of clothing and the latter had his arms around her. This was not okay. This was not what he had agreed to. Not even in the slightest. Hermione stood in the doorway, holding her breath, dried tears still streaking her face as Ron fumed. Ginny sprang out of bed.

"the hell it's not what it looks like! You're… you're in bed with this prick… our brother just died and… you…" Ron saw red- he couldn't even formulate words. There was a roaring beast inside of him. He wanted to kill Harry. Ginny sniffed a little, still emotionally and physically worn out, seeing as she'd had a grand total of about 6 hours sleep in the past two days. Harry sprang up next to her then and wrapped her in his arms as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. He glared at Ron.

"Ron, she came down here because you and Hermione were up in her room and she was UPSET about Fred and she didn't want to be alone. Nothing happened and if you think so little of me, that you think I would take advantage of how upset she was, if you think I would do ANYTHING besides comfort her, then I don't know who you've spent the past seven years being best mates with, cause it sure wasn't me."

Ron stopped, looking as though he'd been clubbed over the head. He stared from Harry to Ginny, and saw how he held her. He then heard sniffles. He looked back at Hermione, but her eyes were dry. Shit.

"Shit, Gin, please… don't cry, I'm sorry, it's just…" He sighed. These past three days had held entirely too much emotion for Ron's liking.

"You're my sister, Ginny. I love you. K?" Ginny looked up, and even though a few stray tears were running down her cheeks, she looked remarkably composed. She nodded and laid her head on Harry's shoulder.

"Ron… even if I had done that with Harry. It's none of your business. I'm nearly 17, Harry's nearly 18. We are perfectly capable of making adult decisions with or without your consent." With that, she unentangled herself from Harry's arms and walked over, kissing her brother on the cheek in an uncharacteristic show of affection.

"I'm going to change and then we're going to figure out how the hell to put our lives back together. I'd appreciate if you lot tried NOT to kill each other before I get back, though I see it might be unavoidable."

And with that she stalked off, leaving the three stunned in her wake. Ron coughed, attempting to clear the uncomfortable air. Hermione looked up and nodded, her and Ron's skills to communicate using their eyes becoming more refined by the moment.

"I'm… er… going to go see if she needs help. With that." Harry rolled his eyes. That was a poor excuse to leave, even by Hermione's standards.

Ron looked at Harry, and he had an abashed look on his face.

"Look, mate…" Harry walked over and embraced Ron. They stood there for a few moments before breaking apart and looking at each other.

"Harry, I love Gin. I have a horrid way of showing it sometimes but I do. I know you love her too. You saved her our second year. I can tell that you love her and that she loves you. I know you don' need my permission, but you have it. You're my best mate and I'll have to pretend she's not my younger sister, just like you have to pretend 'Mione's not like your sister. Cause mate? I think she's the one. I think I might actually marry that loon someday." Harry gaped at him and his speech, but regained composure almost immediately.

"Well. Erm. Yeah. Uh… that's great, Ron. I'm going to go… y'know… grab some breakfast… you just… enjoy yourself…" For Ron was no longer listening but staring at the ceiling, a look on his face similar to that when he'd been bewitched with Romilda Vane's love potion. But Harry smiled as he walked away, because he knew that it was real this time.

Downstairs, everyone was solemn as ever. Harry looked around and saw Bill standing by the door, Molly and Fleur bustling around, once again, in the kitchen, Percy, Charlie and Arthur on the sofa, discussing things in hushed tones, and George, predictably, no where to be found. Harry cleared his throat a little and they all looked at him, but then returned to their chores. Bill, however, motioned for Harry to join him outside.

"Brilliant work, Harry." Harry looked at Bill inquisitively.

"Defeating the darkest wizard that's ever existed…?" Harry laughed.

"Bill, I can honestly say, it was my pleasure. But I'm certain that's not why you wanted to talk to me?" Bill shook his head. He looked through the kitchen window and Harry knew without following his gaze, just based on the way his face lit up, that he was looking at Fleur. Bill then looked at Harry again.

"Fleur and I want to start a family." He spoke abruptly and without any shame.

"We were waiting… you know, until all this was over. We didn't figure it would be the best time for raising children. But it's her dream, to have a billion more red-headed children running around everywhere, I suppose." Harry nodded, for he was a little embarrassed by this conversation and he had no clue how it related to him.

"Shell Cottage only has 3 bedrooms… and Fleur's family is going to be coming for frequent visits. We've bought a new piece of property quite close to here, actually. But that means Shell Cottage is going to be for sale and we- the family, see- don't want to part with it. I just wanted to let you know, you're welcome to it. You, Ron, Hermione…" A darker look crossed his face but passed. "I suppose Ginny as well, but I don't want to think about that too much. And Kreacher. I've already spoken to him." Harry's eyes flew open wide. Seven years later, he was still so unused to being treated like family by the Weasleys, when the Dursleys had always been so wretched to him.

"I'd… I'd love that, Bill. Thanks." Bill nodded.

"I mean of course if you want to stay here…" Bill motioned to the Burrow, abuzz with movement though it was only ten in the morning. "It's up to you. But you lot are 17 and 18 years of age, and I reckon you're going to need a place of your own here soon." Harry nodded and embraced Bill with about as much grace as a hippopotamus. Bill nodded, suddenly feeling quite awkward with the display of emotion.

"Right then. Well. Breakfast."


	4. Temper

**As always thank you for the reviews. (: I hope I don't disappoint- with 100+ favorite story notifications among other things, I want to make this perfect for you all. **

_**Feff; thank you for pointing this out. I am sorry if it bothered you. **_

_**Cal26lum; normally that would probably be Ron's reaction, yes, but considering the battle they went through, and also that he felt horrid about making his sister cry, he dropped the subject. He also felt chagrined by Harry's lecture. You can see how reactions, everyone's, might be different after that battle. (: **_

"We're really doing this." Hermione remarked out loud, as she looked at all of the boxes around Harry and Ron's room. It was 8 days since Harry told them they had a home at Shell Cottage, and bless him, he'd looked really nervous, inviting Hermione and Ron. As if they'd say no. Hermione loved the Weasleys, but she needed somewhere to stay, at the very least until she figured out what to do about her parents, and even after that. She was eighteen. In the Muggle world, that was the age most children moved out of their homes. Hermione was ready for independence, no matter how much she loved her parents. Harry looked at his two best friends, a smile on his face, and he nodded. They'd all agreed to stick around the Burrow until Fred's funeral, which had been yesterday. Presided over by the same stuffy wizard that had done Dumbledore's funeral and Bill and Fleur's wedding. They were all beginning to wonder whether there was another person in all of London who did wizard funerals and weddings.

Harry walked over to the window and looked out at Ginny, who was out picking berries, by hand, not with magic, the way she liked doing many things, it seemed, and then at his friends.

"Hermione… Ron… would you mind if… erm…" Hermione followed Harry's gaze out the window and gasped, enveloping him in a hug.

"YES! You have to. Go. Go ask her! Now!" Harry smiled and hugged Hermione briefly before galloping down the stairs. After all, if Hermione was alright with it, she would easily convince Ron.

Ron stared from Hermione to the door where Harry had just disappeared, back to Hermione.

"What in Merlin's beard was that all about?" Hermione beamed.

"Don't you see, Ron? Harry's asking Ginny to move in with us!" Ron gaped.

"What if I don't want her there?" Hermione scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Harry loves her. Plus, I need a girlfriend to gossip about you to." Hermione laughed as she saw that she'd won him over. He dropped his wand, which had been ordering boxes and clothes around, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Only good things, then, hear?" Hermione giggled an uncharacteristic-for-Hermione giggle and pecked him on the lips, never taking her eyes off of the things she was packing.

"What a relief. I was scared I was going to have to pack up my things from Ginny's and my room in secret, so she wouldn't get upset." Ron rolled his eyes.

"That would be what you were worried about." Hermione nodded. Oh, how he knew her well.

…

"Hello Harry." Harry laughed. Somehow, Ginny had an uncanny knack for knowing exactly when he was around.

"Gin?" Ginny stopped mid-berry and set the basket down, turning around at once to look at Harry. He sounded much too serious for her liking. Last time he'd said that, it had been followed with the reasons why they had to break up, at the end of her fifth year. Granted, they had been good ones, but it still scared her a little.

"What, Harry?" Harry walked over and took her hands in his. She smiled a little as she felt the callouses and the scars and cuts, the signs that he was strong, that he had survived. She raised an eyebrow, however, when she saw that he looked nervous, like a schoolboy who had stolen a cookie.

"Well… erm, see, Bill.. Bill gave me Shell Cottage." Ginny bit her lip. She knew this was coming, eventually… just not so soon. She spoke, not with anger, but with fierceness, the fierceness that she used when she was trying to hide whatever real emotion she was feeling.

"So you'll be leaving then? And when will I see you?" Her voice wavered on the last 'you' and she cursed herself for not keeping her emotions in check. Ginny, normally such a foundation of strength, had been all over the place this week.

"Well… See it's like this…" Ginny huffed, blowing some of her red hair out of her face. Her voice cracked a little as she spoke but she ignored it.

"Harry Potter if you're breaking up with me again I will curse you into next century." Ginny's threats were empty- more than likely if he broke up with her, this time because he truly didn't have feelings for her, with no good reasons, none noble, she'd likely crumple to the ground, not to rise for years. But she couldn't let anyone know that.

"No! No. I wanted to know… I mean Hermione and Ron are coming…" Ginny's jaw dropped. It was always like this- why was she surprised? Ron, Hermione, and Harry, planning, plotting, having adventures. It wasn't like she thought they were having fun- she knew they weren't- but she still wanted to be part of it. She was about to voice all of this when Harry cut her off.

"I want you to move in with us, Ginny."

"This is so typic- wait, what?" Ginny had already launched into her tirade, and was taken aback. She repeated the phrase, weighing each word carefully, as though she was unsure of their meanings.

"You… want… me… to… move… in… with you?" Harry nodded, looking much like a puppy with the anxious look on his face. A tidal wave of relief crashed over Ginny. She'd been preparing for the very worst possible, but here was a solution she'd never envisioned.

"I already talked to your Mum and she's none to thrilled about the idea but she's agreed. And Ron's fine with it." Harry prayed his little white lie was truth, because he was relying purely on Hermione's persuasion skills, knowing Ron would not want Ginny moving in with them.

"Yes! Harry of course I'm going to move in with you." Harry beamed and picked Ginny up, twirling her around a little and kissing her firmly on the lips. HE then heard a squeal from above and he saw Hermione in the window, jumping up and down and looking completely unabashed that she'd been caught spying. She turned around and shouted, to Ron, presumably,

"She said yes!" Ginny laughed and Harry smiled- she was beautiful. He'd spent so long hunting Voldemort, trying not to get killed, that he'd never let himself live. This, now, was the beginning of his new life, with his girlfriend and his two best friends. And Kreacher, of course, who he'd made completely happy by telling him he could have one of the rooms.

…

"This is it, folks." Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Kreacher stood in front of Shell Cottage. Kreacher looked around and saw a gravestone close. He ran over to it and wailed, running over and clutching the leg of Harry, crying in his gravelly voice.

"Dobby is dead… Dobby is dead… Dobby… Oh, Kreacher had warmed to Dobby, he had… Oh… Dobby…" Harry patted the house elf, not quite sure how to console him. Kreacher shook his head, as if remembering he was in the presence of others. He spoke in a voice more screechy than his normal one.

"Kreacher will prepare supper for Master Harry and his friends." Harry nodded and, sensing the house elf wanted time alone to mourn the death of his begrudging companion, motioned to the others that they should leave. Harry, Ron, and Ginny began walking down to the beach, but Hermione stayed rooted to the spot, lost somewhere in her own thoughts. Ron nodded that Harry and Ginny should go on, that he would take care of whatever was wrong with Hermione. He walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped nearly three feet in the air and scowled at Ron, but almost immediately her expression softened and she clutched his hand.

"I'm sorry, Ron. I'm just so used to…" She trailed off uncertainly. Ron nodded- he understood.

"To having to run. Having to be scared, of a hand on your shoulder." She nodded, grateful that he apparently could read her thoughts, so clearly written on her face. Hermione wiped a few tears away from her eyes and buried her head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to her, unsure what to do, as he didn't even know why she was upset and wasn't sure what the most prudent way to find out was. He just rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head.

"It's over now, Hermione… they aren't…" But he stopped there, for she was glaring at him, tears in her usually dry eyes.

"It's not over, Ron!" She pulled up her sleeve, where the word "Mudblood" was just beginning to fade from scabs to scars on her arm.

"There are always going to be people that hate me, that want me dead, that think I don't belong!" Hermione laughed but it was not a humor-filled laugh- it was quite near hysterical and Ron was getting a little anxious. He really did think that he loved Hermione, he did, but when she was hysterical, which thank Merlin wasn't often, she scared him half to death.

"There's always going to be people that hate me, and there's always going to be people that hate you and Harry, just like we hate all the Death Eaters that are still alive somewhere." Ron looked at her, at a loss for words because he knew she was right. In a moment of boldness, he moved and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his large arms around her and holding her as tightly as he could without breaking her.

"There's always gonna be people that hate us Hermione, you're right. But I won't let them get you." Hermione looked at Ron, warmth melting some of her hysterics, much to Ron's relief. Hermione took comfort in his words, as empty as she felt they were. It was like a father telling his child they would be alright because he'd protect them. There was no way that Ron could possibly protect her from all of the billions of dangers that lurked around every single corner, but it was the fact that he was willing, that he meant his words and he would protect her as much as he could, that meant the most to Hermione. She chuckled a little and wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm being pathetic. I'm just… I honestly am so tired." Ron raised a red eyebrow at her.

"Then… sleep?" He seemed to weigh his words carefully- girls were a tricky business- you never knew when you were going to mess them up. To his relief, she looked at him with kind eyes.

"Not sleep tired, Ron. Just… tired. I can't even be happy that I'm moving into a house with my three very closest friends-" She smiled at him and touched his face gently, as if to show that she hoped he was something more. "-because I'm so used to having to deal with everything else." Ron looked into her eyes and finally realized that this was a hurt, a fear, an insecurity that he could not take away. He held her tightly for another moment then, with a devilish grin, picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder. She squealed and pounded on his back.

"Ronald Weasley! What are you doing?" He laughed.

"Giving you fun!" He ran towards the beach, where a few moments ago he had heard squealing and knew Ginny and Harry were down playing in the ocean.

Hermione rolled his eyes and pounded on his back more, good naturedly, but let him carry her. The truth was, she would like some fun.

She felt Ron stop just as he hit the water and gasp.

"What is it Ron?" All Hermione had was a view of the back of his shirt. She smacked his back when he didn't respond until he set her down gently. She looked, first at his face, on which he was wearing an expression much like the first time he'd seen Ginny and Harry kiss, back in their sixth year. She then followed his gaze and her breath hitched in her throat.

Ginny, who had, Hermione knew, wore her bikini here for this very reason- was clad in only her bikini and Harry only in his shorts, and they were tangled in each other, kissing so furiously that Hermione felt embarrassed even looking at them. She then realized what was probably going through Ron's mind, however, and although she tried to restrain him, he shook her off and she stood helplessly watching him race towards them, a look of hatred on his face.

**(A/N: So I know the whole carving Mudblood into her arm didn't happen in the book, only the movie, but I thought it would be a helpful tool in the conversation and the point Hermione was trying to prove. Sorry if it bothers you.) **


	5. Perfect

Harry and Ginny were entangled, standing waist-deep in the ocean. Ginny breathed in his familiar scent and marveled in the hold of his calloused hands on her back, pressing herself against him as close as she could. Every single place their skin touched, she felt as though literal electric currants ran through, and she ceased to be Ginny Weasley and he ceased to be Harry Potter, but they were this new person, completely wrapped up in each other. Ginny broke apart from him and rested her nose on his, smiling and chuckling breathlessly. She may have been a year younger than him but she was not stupid and she could feel that he wanted her in every single way, as much as she wanted him. She stroked his face softly and looked him in the eyes, telling him someday, someday soon, but not today. And the beauty was, Ginny knew that he would respect her.

He began to kiss her again and she let him lift her off the ground, wrapping her legs around him, when she heard giggling. She broke her lips from Harry again and looked towards the beach, where their clothes lay in crumpled heaps, and Hermione stood, looking frightened. Ginny then sat up, Harry's arms supporting her legs, and looked straight ahead, and saw Ron charging towards them like a mad bull.

"Shit." She jumped out of Harry's arms, nearly falling and cursing again loudly as she landed on a sharp rock. She clutched his hand, looking not at all remorseful at her brother, as she hobbled on one foot. Ron approached them and shoved Harry, who was expecting it and was able to easily keep his balance. Ron went to draw his wand out of his now-soaked jeans when Ginny jumped in between them.

"Ron! Are you mad? Even if you were going to duel Harry doesn't have his wand." Ron was breathing heavily, and Ginny could tell that he wasn't thinking rationally. She looked back at Hermione and pleaded with her eyes for her to come and deal with Ron- Ginny knew that Ron would easily shove her aside in a few moments in order to get to Harry- however, he wouldn't ever lay a hand on Hermione.

Sensing Ginny's distress, Hermione rushed over, pulling her wand and shouting as she ran.

"Protego!" A barrier erupted between Harry and Ron two seconds before Ron fired his first spell at Harry. The impact of the shield knocked all three of them over and Harry looked down. Ginny was sitting in the water, it reaching almost her neck, holding her foot and looking completely miserable. Harry looked from Ginny to Hermione to Ron, through the protective barrier, obviously unsure what to do. He nodded at Hermione and he could tell she knew what he was thinking, and he went over, where Ginny's foot was turning the water around her the color of rust. He scooped her up easily and walked towards shore, Hermione keeping the protective barrier over both of them as Ron fired spells at it.

She followed them all the way up the shore, into the house, and into the second story bedroom, and Ron followed, firing spells around Hermione's back, being sure not to hit her but still fuming at his supposed best mate wrapped up in his little sister that way. Hermione let the barrier down and Harry half-hugged her, whispering thanks as he locked the door. Ron stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, before Hermione pointed her wand at him and shouted

"Expeliarmus!" Ron looked at her incredulously as his wand flew to her hands, with pain on his face that Hermione never wanted to see again, before stomping up to the third story bedroom and slamming the door. Hermione wiped away some of the tears that were pricking at her eyes and went downstairs to check on Kreacher.

…

Harry looked at Ginny, who was sitting on the edge of the tub of the bathroom in the bigger of the two bedrooms, where scarlet blood was dripping onto the tub. Harry summoned medical supplies and they came zooming at him from under the sink- he knew without asking that Ginny wanted this done the Muggle way, as she did most things. He went over to her and knelt down on the floor in front of her.

Smiling at him despite the immense pain she was in, Ginny swung her foot around and placed it in front of him. He dried it and poured antiseptic on it, and as Ginny winced, he winced. This did not go unnoticed by Ginny, who questioned it immediately.

Harry's cheeks turned a bright shade of scarlet as he replied, as though he thought he was not supposed to have feelings.

"I… when you're in pain it hurts me, Ginny." She raised an eyebrow at him, questioning. He continued.

"Not in the way that Voldemort's pain hurt me. Not physically. Just…" He sighed as he wrapped a bandage around her foot. "I've caused you so much pain already, I don't ever want you to be in pain, not ever again, if I can help it." She smiled and stood up, balancing unevenly on one foot, and threw her arms around him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. She kissed the inside of his neck and worked her way up until her lips found his, and kissed him softly. She limped over to the bed and laid on it with a sigh. She felt Harry's gaze on her and laughed a little.

"What?" Ginny rolled her eyes. She knew it took an immense amount of probing to get him to spit out whatever was on his mind and it was a complete drag to force it out of him sometimes.

"Just… I mean I can do any number of simple spells on your foot and it would be good as new. Why do you not want me to?" Ginny sighed and sat up before limping feebly across the room and pulling open a drawer where Kreacher had already put all their clothes way, bless him. She found her favorite old sweatshirt that hung halfway down her thighs and pulled it over, pondering her answer before replying.

"I don't know. I mean obviously I like magic. Quidditch is my life." She smiled at him, reminiscing about the days she'd spend stealing glances at him while they were practicing and she was quite certain he wasn't paying attention.

"But I like to do things the Muggle way. I think it's because I grew up in a house where everything was done by magic. And Dad and I used to have these long talks, late at night in the summer while you lot were all in bed, talking about Muggle things, and I guess I just inherited his fascination for all these Muggle things. By no means am I going to live life without magic. But I like the simplicity of doing things like picking flowers by hand, because it makes them that much prettier. And like this-" She motioned to the bandage on her foot as she went over and hoisted herself to the edge of the bed, patting the white mattress to show Harry could join her, which he did.

"I mean sure you could heal it. But then what would stop me from being more careful next time we go out in the ocean? We all become so used to magic in our lives that we don't even appreciate fully how lucky we are to be able to use it. I think that if I use it less, if I do things the Muggle way more, I'll appreciate how much magic really can help with things I can't bear to do without it." She wrinkled her nose a little.

"Like cooking." Harry, who had been staring at her without blinking throughout her little speech, chuckled and kissed the top of her head. She rested her head on his shoulder and he put a arm around her. The small motion of compassion made her melt inside and she curled up into him, wanting to snuggle into his lap the way that she had with her dad when she was very young. She sighed as Harry rested his chin on her head, as the past few weeks came washing over her.

"He's really gone." She felt Harry stiffen a little and immediately regretted saying it, for she knew he still blamed himself for Fred's death. She scoffed and hopped off the bed, rifling through drawers and slamming them with a little more force than necessary as she spoke.

"You've got to stop, Harry." She could practically feel his confusion- he was that predictable. Or maybe she'd just known him so long that she knew what he would be thinking.

"Stop blaming yourself! He was my brother- I mean if anyone is going to blame you it should be me. And I don't. I just…" She felt tears prickling at her eyes and she tried to shove them away and hide them behind a Weasley temper but it was hard, with her still as worn out as she was.

"I need time. I need to miss him. I mean the war, and then his funeral, and we moved here two days later… it was less than two weeks ago that he…" She pulled a pair of jean shorts from a drawer and slid them over her legs as she sniffled a little. "He was alive." She pulled out a sweatshirt she didn't even recognize and heaved it at Harry, more than a little frustrated.

Ginny stood facing the wall, not wanting him to see her cry again. She felt a pair of hands- the hands that protected her- around her waist and turned around. He looked taken aback at her tears, but he didn't say anything. He simply ran his fingers under her eyes, drying them with his calloused hands, and pulled her into him. It was a small motion, but it warmed Ginny's resolve completely.

Ginny Weasley was tough. It was a commonly known fact- you had to be tough when you grew up with all brothers, when you were dating Harry Potter. Every instance in her life had called for her to be brave and strong, and she was very good at it. She knew Harry admired the fact that she wasn't emotional, because he'd told her on two separate occasions, and so she hated the few instances where her emotions got a hold of her. But looking into his green eyes, she felt like everything was okay. And she felt like he didn't mind her crying. They stood like that, Ginny putting nearly all of her weight into Harry so she didn't have to balance on her injured foot, and let his scent completely envelop her and take her away, far away, where pain and hurt did not exist.

Closing her eyes, she imagined her life as she wanted it. She could honestly see herself being with Harry until they were both old and grey. She wanted to marry him someday. She wanted to have children with him someday. She wanted to be the parents waving at their children on the Hogwarts Express, telling them to write every day, worrying. Sitting on the porch of a cottage with coffee, in rockers, both of their hair graying, and still completely in love. She smiled a little into his shoulder, because it was the most beautiful kind of life that she could possibly imagine.

"MASTER HARRY AND FRIENDS!" Ginny's beautiful fantasy was broken by the screeching voice of Kreacher from the floor below.

"SUPPER IS READY MASTER HARRY!" Ginny winced a little as his rough voice amplified through the house. Harry opened the door a crack.

"Coming, Kreacher, thanks!" He picked Ginny up and, to her surprise, threw her on his back so he was giving her a piggy back ride. She giggled girlishly, loving the fact that she could still be amused by something as simple as a piggy back ride.

"I'm heavy." She warned, and rolled her eyes as Harry scoffed.

"Ginny, first of all you weigh less than a feather. Second of all, I just spent a year living in a bloody tent with no food supply, no anything, hunting and killing pieces of the soul of the Darkest Wizard that's ever existed. I think I can carry you downstairs." Ginny giggled again and Harry smiled.

"I missed your laugh, Gin." And with that, he galloped down the stairs, ignoring Ginny's squeals but ducking so she didn't hit her head on the low planks of the stairs. He set her down as they came to the entryway to the kitchen and kissed her nose. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the table, stopping short when he saw Ron and Hermione, Hermione's hands over Ron's, whose were clenched in fists. Hermione looked at Harry, a look in her eyes that mixed with pity and amusement at him and Ginny. Ginny and Harry sat down at the table and Kreacher served them all before retiring to the room after Harry assured him they could manage the dishes on their own.

The only sound in the room for what felt like an immeasurable amount of time was forks clicking before Ginny spoke.

"Ronald, I am sorry. I really am. But you need to accept that I am nearly seventeen. And after what the four of us have been through, I think it is completely safe to say that we are all adults. I _love_ Harry, Ron." Her cheeks turned a fierce shade of scarlet, because it was different, saying this to all of them instead of Harry, in secret.

"I love him. I…" She was about to say she envisioned a life with him, but then realized that it might scare Harry, hearing that, so she deemed it prudent to backtrack.

"Well, I just.. I'm going to be with him whether you want me to or not. And Bill put the deed in Harry's name, and he could make you leave. You don't have money, none of us do. Harry is the one paying for everything, which is the most damn generous thing in the world, considering how you have been acting." She turned to him and smiled, lacing her fingers through his on top of the table.

"You need to get over it, okay? Bloody hell, Hermione is a sister to Harry, as much as I am to you, and he's forced to watch you two snogging all over the place, not to mention the seven years of your constant strange fighting-flirting thing. You could do the decent thing, you know, and let him and me just… be." Ron looked from Harry to Ginny to Hermione, and back several times before the oddest, most unexpected thing came from his lips.

He laughed.

They all stared at him incredulously, for what was funny? But he kept laughing, and through his laughs he spoke.

"Blimey, you witches are all alike aren't you?" Ginny stared at him, at a loss for words.

"That's… that's the exact thing Hermione said to me up in our room." They all laughed a little, but the 'our room' stayed in the air like a layer of thickness had been added. Harry looked around, obviously not wanting to push his luck with Ron, so he let Ginny speak for him again.

"So erm… you two are sharing a room, then?" Hermione blushed furiously and looked at Ron. She spoke in a voice that was much smaller and much less brave than normal as her words came out in a jumbled mess, trying to explain or possibly redeem herself.

"Well I mean the beds are big and Gin I love you and all but you snore and it's not like we're going to DO anything I mean I just thought and Ron said it was okay and-" She looked at all of their faces, practically begging for them to not make her talk anymore. Harry stared at Ron incredulously.

"Does that mean… you… I mean…" Ginny sighed, for she loved Harry but she wished he would grow a backbone when it came to confronting his best friend. She came to his aide once again, however.

"What Harry is so eloquently trying to say is, that means you're alright with US sharing a room?" Ron blinked once, twice, and stared at Harry for an extremely long time. He finally spoke again, in a small, grisly voice very much unlike his own.

"I hadn't thought of that." Hermione giggled a little, breaking the tension in the room. She looked at Ron, who looked as though he'd been hit in the head with a Bludger, and rolled her eyes.

"Ginny, I'm sure the conclusion Ron will come to is that yes, you two can share a room, as long as you remain…" Hermione blushed. She could talk to Harry and Ginny, her two best friends, about anything, but the whole concept of _sex_ just made her blush.

"Chaste." Ginny giggled at Hermione's phrasing, especially when she was quite sure Ron and Hermione would not remain 'chaste' for very long, despite her reassurances. Ginny nodded and grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him out of his chair.

"I'm only half done with supper!" Ginny ignored Harry's protests and dragged him back up to the room, nearly hopping on one foot in excitement. As soon as she slammed the door shut, She dove into his arms, kissing him with a ferocity not to be matched. Harry, taken aback, stood there for a moment, stunned, but then kissed her back.

As they broke apart, Ginny laughed loudly at Harry's bemused expression.

"I wanted to leave before Ron was able to actually form a sentence and tell us no! God knows he'd try to make you sleep in a tent or something outside… I just…" She smiled the beautiful smile that melted Harry's heart.

"I want this to be perfect." The couple stared at each other and a million unspoken words were said with their eyes. Ginny placed a soft, small hand on Harry's face, and Harry placed his on top of it. Ginny smiled at him again.

"I meant it, you know. I do love you."

**(A/N: I'm sure you can tell I struggled with this chapter, especially the beginning. But right now, I would like your opinion: The first draft of this chapter was much 'fluffier', but in thinking about it, I honestly can't see either couple having a fluffy relationship. They obviously have moments of sweetness and tenderness, but I'm not sure they would have the typical teen/young adult relationship in that reguard. That said, love stories usually do need 'fluff'. So I'd like your opinion on this chapter- more, just enough, or less? Thanks! (: **


	6. Plans

Hermione gasped as a pair of arms snaked around her waist and flour went everywhere. She turned around and laughed at Ron's guilty expression. She looked all over and put her hands on her hips in fake exasperation- the flour would be more than easy to clean up.

"Ronald Weasley, I am TRYING to cook pancakes. What on earth do you think you're doing, scaring me like that." Ron smiled, sensing immediately that Hermione wasn't actually mad. He walked over and kissed her flour-dusted nose. When they broke apart, their noses were still touching, and Hermione was at once overwhelmed by the extreme tenderness in Ron's eyes- she didn't think him capable of it.

Ron brushed some of the flour that had exploded off of his shirt and looked at Hermione, snickering a little, because her face was streaked with flour.

"You have a little dirt on your nose, did you know? Just there." Hermione started laughing in earnest, immediately remembering it as one of the first things she'd ever spoken to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly before resting her head on his shoulder.

"I can't believe it's really over." Hermione nodded in agreement- indeed, it was extremely hard to believe that after so much pain, so much heartbreak, this war that she'd become a participant in, really, the day she stepped into Ron and Harry's compartment way back at the beginning of her first year, that they were able to just live. There wasn't any gruesome task awaiting them, there wasn't any deadline or anything that they must accomplish. They could really simply just exist, and it was the most beautiful thing Hermione could imagine at all. They had lived in Shell Cottage, all four of them, for nearly a month now, but they all never got over the fact that they could enjoy life again.

She sighed a little, though, because though she would leave in a month and a half to return to Hogwarts, she had not yet told Ron that she planned to go back. Kingsley had come by earlier in the summer for supper, and after they all congratulated him on being appointed Minister of Magic, he said that he was offering anyone that had participated in the Battle of Hogwarts a job as an Auror, N.E.W.T.S not required. Harry and Ron had talked at length about it and had decided that they would take a year off, to recooperate, to do what they had devoted their lives to that summer, enjoying life. Hermione knew that Ginny had been offered positions on numerous Quidditch teams, and she had a stack of letters hidden under her bed while she considered each team.

Hermione and Ginny both, Hermione knew, needed to sit down with Ron and Harry respectively and discuss their futures. Because as it was, Ginny had yet to tell Harry she'd received any offers, and Hermione had yet to tell Ron she'd be leaving for an entire year.

Ron, however, with his newfound intuitiveness, sensed that something was wrong with Hermione. As she walked back to the stove, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

"Hey." She looked at him and Ron was surprised to see pain written all over her face. He pulled her into him and wrapped his arms around her, which only made Hermione more regretful as she buried her head into his shoulder, not wanting him to see the tears that were tugging at her eyes. He spoke in the softest, most loving tone she'd ever heard him speak in, and she wished he'd be horrid to her- it would make leaving so much easier.

"What's the matter?" She looked up at him and could tell he was taken aback at the sight of tears. He stroked her head and shushed her. She spoke, in a completely reserved and quiet tone.

"Ron I… I'm going to go back to Hogwarts. For… to complete my seventh year, I mean." Hermione looked away from him instantly, but felt his entire body tense up. To his credit, he did not let go of her, but she could practically feel the shock and sadness flowing out of him. She spoke into his arm, too ashamed to look him in the eye.

"Please don't hate me. I'll come home on Christmas and Easter holidays… and it's not too far, I mean, you can Apperate to Hogsmeade sometimes… If… if you want… and… I'll… write…" She didn't know what to say, but she wanted him to know that it didn't mean they were breaking up. She loved him more than ever, even if she hadn't been able to tell him that. She finally braved a look up at his face, and to her surprise he was smiling at her. It was a remorseful, sad sort of smile, but a smile. He kissed the top of her head gently before breaking apart from her.

"Quite honestly I guess I knew that would happen." He chuckled a little and Hermione smiled in spite of herself- he was taking it so much better than she could've ever expected.

"God forbid anyone get between Hermione Granger and her EDUCATION." Hermione laughed out loud then, and ran back over to him, jumping in his arms. He caught her, taken aback by the bold move. Hermione was one for small gestures, little things others wouldn't even notice. But Ron did. More than he'd ever tell her. She looked up at him then, a smile tugging at her lips.

"So you don't hate me?" He nearly dropped her as his eyes widened with shock.

"Hermione… how could you ever believe that I hated you? Sure, it's going to drive me mental, now that you're finally mine, to have you gone, to only see you on Christmas and Easter and Hogsmeade weekends… but I'll be there, every weekend I can. And I might even write back." He winked at her and she giggled foolishly again. Oh, how stupid she'd been to think he wouldn't want her. She kissed him long and hard on the lips, snaking her arms around his neck and tangling her hands in the bright red hair she loved. She wondered if he knew what he did to her heart, for it was pounding so much she was quite certain he could hear it, certain that people all over the world could hear it.

Although they had been sleeping in the same bed for the past month, they'd done little more than kiss- Hermione had never done more than snog with Viktor and was completely and utterly scared of anything besides kissing. It was uncharted territory, something that she could, if she wanted, read thousands of books over and still know nothing more than when she started. She knew she would only learn from experience, but she was scared of initiating that experience. She and Ron hadn't even talked about it, and Hermione lay awake many a night, after stopping them from going any further, wondering if he'd slept with Lavender. He'd admitted to Hermione several times he'd only gone with her to spark her jealousy- which he had indeed done- but he was a bloke, after all. It was enough to feed Hermione's insecurities, anyway, enough so that she kindly but firmly stopped him whenever his hand found the hem of her shirt. She knew she wanted him to be her first, but she wanted it to be perfect, and she wanted to be ready.

"Ahem." Hermione looked over at Harry and Ginny, who stood at the other end of the kitchen, hands intertwined, Ginny looking amused, Harry looking a little squeamish. Hermione reminded herself of the talk Ginny and she had had a few nights previously, how Harry had confided in her how he felt, when he saw Hermione and Ron kissing, was the same way he expected Ron felt when he saw Harry and Ginny. She immediately jumped down to the floor, disentangling herself from Ron, and began cleaning the flour by hand. Ginny laughed a little, breaking the tension in the kitchen, and Ron simply stood there, looking utterly dumbfounded and completely unabashed. Harry went over, pulled his wand out, and cleaned all the flour, dumping it in the trash, before offering Hermione his hand and pulling her to her feet. He smiled at her chagrined look.

"_It's okay." _He whispered as they stood up, and Hermione nodded at him gratefully. Ever since her conversation with Ginny, she'd been watching Harry and could see him grow visibly tenser whenever she and Ron were the least affectionate. To his credit, however, he never once lost his temper or got angry, and she was eternally grateful for it.

Ginny looked at the three of her friends, who honestly looked a mess. She gave a sigh that was much older than her 17 years, and, pulling out her wand, waved it several times at the kitchen, and pancakes began preparing themselves. Harry looked at her and Ginny could immediately tell he was impressed. He walked over and kissed her chastely on the cheek.

"You're really good at that, Gin. I mean, Hermione cooks really well. But I've never seen someone cook only using magic." Ginny blushed a little but then saw the teasing in Harry's eyes and fake punched him, knowing he was remembering her extreme distain for anything remotely housewife-like. He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, and she squeezed back before letting go and concentrating on finishing the pancakes, completely with magic.

As they sat down, Ron examined the food in front of him, and began stuffing his face the second he hit the chair. Hermione ruffled his already-messy red hair as she sat down with a giggle.

"Honestly, Ronald, can you EVER stop eating?"

"Shchtil gmormphing. Nscheed phfochd." Harry, Ginny, and Hermione all stared at him incredulously. Ginny spoke first.

"Ron, you do know no one can understand you." Ron began speaking again, pancakes still hiding his words from everyone else, but he shook it off and continued eating. His plate was clean before anyone else was even half done, and so, in a very uncharacteristic, gentleman-ly act, he got up and began doing the dishes. Yes, he did it with magic, but it was the thought that counted. He sat down and they were enveloped again with the sounds of forks clicking, but it was a very comfortable silence. Harry was the one who broke the silence.

"We need to talk about what we do.. what we do next." Ginny looked at him, a nervous look on her face. Harry ignored it but made a mental note to ask her what was wrong. He continued, seeming more sure of himself the more that he spoke.

"I mean it's… it's been brilliant, us all living here like this, not caring about anything. Especially since we sent Kreacher back to help repare Hogwarts." They had all decided that they could survive without him, and they were all a little disturbed by his presence, even if he had turned into a somewhat kinder house elf, so they released him with the promise that they would call if they needed him and he was free to visit Dobby's grave whenever he wanted, which he had taken to doing about once a week.

"But we have to have a plan. I know Ron and I are going to start Auror training in the spring. But…" He let the question hang in the air, motioning that either Ginny or Hermione should continue. Ginny, with her usual assertiveness, spoke first.

"Well… I don't want to go back to Hogwarts." She scrunched up her nose.

"I never was much for school. And…" Harry could tell the following revelation was what the nervous look was before. Ginny turned to Harry and covered his hands with hers, pushing a piece of stray hair back behind her ear as she spoke in a quieter voice.

"Well, Harry… I've been offered several Quidditch positions." Harry nodded curtly, and Ginny took her hands off of his, exasperated. She hated when he acted that way, as if nothing bothered him. She would rather he yell at her for hiding things from him, from wanting to spend any time away from him, anything, than to sit like he was fine. She picked up her plate and dumped it in the sink, ignoring Ron's protests that she'd dumped it on the clean plates.

"I'm going for a walk." With that, she stalked out the back door, letting it slam with a rattle behind her. The trio was in silence for a few moments, before Harry turned to Hermione, more guarded and careful this time, so as not to spark any other unnecessary outbursts.

"Are you… what are you doing, Hermione?" She looked at Ron, who had taken to doing the dishes by hand and was staring out the window with a glassy expression, with mention of Hermione's year.

"Well, I'm going back to Hogwarts for my seventh year. And…" She looked at her lap, touching a topic that had been troubling her for a very long time.

"Well I need to go to Australia. My parents are still there. And they still…" Tears pricked her eyes. "They still don't know who I am."


	7. Simple

Hermione was laying in the bed she shared with Ron, staring at a book but not really reading it. Ron came out of the bathroom, drying his face, and peeked over her shoulder before laying down next to her with a sigh.

"You aren't really reading that so you might as well stop pretending." Hermione pushed her bushy hair to the side and looked over at him. He chuckled dryly at her, and she knew it had to be because of the ornery look on her face, but with the mood she was in, she took it as a personal affront.

"And dare I ask why you would think I am not reading it?" The truth was, Hermione really wasn't reading it- the 'it' in question being a Muggle romance novel Ginny had given her- but she had no clue how Ronald was able to tell that. He smiled at her in a knowing way, which just furthered Hermione's anger.

"One, you don't read romance novels. Two, you haven't turned a page in over 20 minutes, since before I was in the shower. And three, I know that look on your face. You're a million miles away." He scooted closer and kissed the top of her head affectionately, while placing a hand on her back and rubbing circles on her back with his thumb, in the small space where her back stuck out of her tank top. If only he knew how every time he touched her she still felt electrified.

"I'm worried about my parents." After more talking, they had decided that Ron and Hermione would go together to Australia. Since her parents' house wasn't connected to the Floo network- and even if it was, that would be an unwelcome surprise, them appearing in her fireplace- and after consulting Mr. Weasley, they decided Apperating across countries was not a wise move- the pair was going to fly on an airplane. Ron was excited, Hermione completely nervous. She hated planes, only having ridden on one once when she was nine and it having been extremely scary.

Ron laid down so he could look up at Hermione, who was propped up on her elbows. He kept his hand on the bare spot on her back while he spoke, still cautious, for girls still were the scariest, most unpredictable creatures he'd ever encountered, and with all of his trips to Hagrid's that was saying something.

"It will be okay, Hermione-" She gave an exasperated sigh.

"You don't KNOW that though Ronald. I mean what if the memory charm didn't hold? I mean I wasn't there to monitor it or anything… remember the Muggle from the Quidditch World Cup, at the beginning of our fourth year? They said they had to redo his Memory Charm nearly ten times a day! I've been apart from my parents for nearly a year now. Or what if it worked, and it worked so well that I'm not able to remove of it? What if they're d…d…dead?" Hermione stuttered. It was very possible, if her parents had remembered who they were, and returned home, that they had died. But she refused to even let herself think of that possibility. She looked at Ron then, and her eyes had a very familiar see-I-told-you-so-you-were-wrong quality about them.

"I don't mean that everything will be okay with your parents, although I'm sure it will be. I mean it will be okay because… well because I'll always be here for you." He looked up at her with a sheepish smile on his face, the one she'd fallen in love with, possibly as early as their third year.

"Oh, Ron…" She sat up and climbed onto his lap, bringing her lips softly to his. He wrapped his arms around her, surprised by her sudden affection but not one to question it. She moved so she was nearly laying on top of him, kissing him with an urgency about her that was very unlike her. She tangled her fingers in his red hair and deepened the kiss, until she was quite sure she would never be able to breathe properly again.

If only he knew the things he did to her. Hermione was acutely aware of every single place their bodies were touching, her senses intensified a hundredfold by their kissing. Hermione broke apart then and grabbed her wand from the table, her hands shaking so violently and her mind so preoccupied that she had to breathlessly whisper _"Nox"_ three times before the lights finally went out. She threw her wand on the ground, then, not caring where it went or frankly if she ever saw it again. She wrapped herself in Ron.

She felt his hand feel a little at the bottom of her tank top, and her breath quickened even more, for an impulse struck her. Normally, that was where she stopped him. When his fingers started toying at the bottom of her shirt, she'd place a hand on his and move it away. But something inside of her told her that she wouldn't, not tonight. She felt him tense up, too, expecting her to stop him. She knew they had only technically been together a little over a month, but it was really so much more. They had spent seven years together, in a way, and every moment in that seven years had been building up to this.

Hermione was very traditional, she wasn't one to give herself away to any wizard that found her attractive. She'd only snogged Krum and she'd been romantically involved with him longer than she had technically been involved with Ron. The logical side of her told her she should wait, and she also knew that if she wanted, he would wait, he'd stop in a heartbeat if he was making her uncomfortable. But Hermione always lived in her comfort zone, not breaking rules, reading books, staying with what she knew. What if she just let go? Merlin knew that if she was going to let herself go with anyone at all, it would be with Ron.

So she let herself go.

She sat up straight, sitting on top of a now-lying-down Ron, and she saw in his face the reluctant acceptance, because he thought she was stopping him. She smiled a little nervously and took the edges of her tank top, hesitating for a minute before pulling it off. The complete shock as she sat there in only shorts and her bra on Ron's face was priceless, so priceless she giggled as she kissed him again. He smiled against her lips and let his hands explore her back. He whispered in her ear, a raw, husky voice that she'd never heard from him before.

"Are you… sure?" Hermione nodded, even though she wasn't. She whispered back, her voice shaking.

"Not… not all the … way… but… yes." She bit her lip, not wanting to overthink anything or ruin anything. Her words never seemed to come out right- she was not a romantic person, not a poetic person. She loved romantic gestures, to be certain, but she wasn't flowery, her words didn't flow together, she didn't disguise any truth behind pretty metaphors and beautiful adjectives. So she didn't talk.

She laid back down and kissed him yet again, with more passion than Ron believed Hermione to have. They could both tell how much they wanted- needed- each other, in every emotional and physical way. Hermione wasn't ready for that. Not yet. She knew, still, as she'd known for a month now, that Ron would be her first, someday. But tonight, with Harry and Ginny out on the beach bickering somewhere, Ron and Hermione boarding an airplane in a week, in the bedroom of Shell Cottage, on an ordinary evening? It wasn't the moment.

But it was the moment something changed in Hermione's heart. She felt it flutter as Ron's clumsy fingers found her bra clasp. She froze for a moment and felt him instinctively freeze under her too, wondering if he'd gone too far, but then she began kissing him again, her way of saying without words that he could go on, that she would tell him, when it got to be too much. He cursed under his breath as he struggled with the clasp. Hermione smiled against his lips before wrapping her arms around and guiding his larger ones in unhooking it.

After it was unclasped, Ron tugged at the straps, for Hermione's arms were tangled around his neck again, and she was pushing herself onto him, as if she could not get close enough no matter how many places their bodies touched. He tugged at the straps again, impatiently, for her was a bloke, after all. She smiled and moved her arms, so the black bra fell to the side of the bed.

Then, it was Ron that froze. Hermione sat up a little, looking unsure. She wasn't sure about how far he'd gone with Lavender, and that was indeed a large part of all of her insecurities, about snogging, about this, about making love… she had seen the way Ron and Lavender had carried on in the Common Room, and if that was any indication of how they had been in private… Hermione dreaded to think about it, for she had always thought Lavender was much prettier than she, the bookish, smart girl, could ever be. At the time, she'd seen Lavender as a silly girl, but now, in bed, braless in front of the boy she loved, every insecurity was brought back.

She pushed Lavender out of her head, then, not allowing her to interrupt this moment between her and Ron. She scooted down a little and pulled his shirt off with a graceful ease that Ron couldn't ever possibly possess. She kissed his chest, then his neck, then his lips, remaining there and pressing her naked flesh into his. She heard a soft moan come out of his lips and it gave her confidence, hope. Hope that maybe she, plain old Hermione Granger, was the one that Ron actually cared about. She placed a hand on his chest and leaned into him more, their two bodies illuminated only by the moonlight that streamed in through the window.

She felt him wrap his around her lower back, felt them exploring her back for what felt like the hundredth time, felt them on her hips, her waist… and Hermione gasped, taken completely aback as his hands found her chest. She felt him freeze yet again, worrying that he'd done something wrong yet again. She let out an exasperated sigh as he began to move his hands, but she took his and guided them back to where they were. She looked at him and he opened his eyes a little. She smiled a timid smile and nodded a little, whispering.

"_It's okay." _That was all he needed. He continued, pulling her back down on top of him, one of his hands on her chest, the other holding the nape of her neck as he pressed her face into his. Hermione felt his urgency and she felt the same urgency. She wanted to be close to him… she wanted to be part of him. And in that moment, if there was any ever doubt in her mind, it was evaporated. She belonged with him, their destinies as intertwined as their bodies were in between the cotton sheets of their bed. She loved him and she was becoming increasingly aware that it was a very real possibility that he might actually love her back.

The thought, the fact that he might actually LOVE her, made her want him even more, but she was a strongwilled girl. They remained as they were, not shedding any more clothing, but not replacing any more either, for what felt like it could have been decades. Hermione could be with him in this way forever, for despite the fact they were doing something that months ago Hermione would have said was dirty and wrong and something taboo, something that others may think was so inappropriate, wasn't with Ron. Just like when it finally happened, she knew she would not have sex with him, they would make love. They already made love in so many ways.

They were making love the week before when she taught Ron how to cook the Muggle way, insisting it made food taste better. They were making love when they took walks on the beach together, hand in hand, talking about all the things they had always been too busy bickering to talk about before. They were making love when he chased her around the the house. They were making love when they went jumping off the cliff into the ocean together, something Hermione had said she would never do, but she did holding Ron's hand. They already had made love in so many ways, that in that moment Hermione became certain that when they finally did make love someday in that final, most passionate way, it would feel as right as what she was doing now.

As it was, whenever she had kissed Viktor, it had felt wrong. Even in the library, when he would put his large arms around her and kiss her against a bookcase, making her blush furiously, it had felt so wrong, not even just because they were sneaking around. It felt impure. Now, here she was, half naked ontop of Ron, but all she felt was an extreme fluttering in her heart that she deduced was all the love spilling out for him in new ways. Every single day, it was though she could find a new thing about him that she loved so completely. He had his faults, she knew more than anyone, for they'd spent seven years fighting. But she didn't love him in spite of his faults, that was no way to have a real relationship.

No, she loved him because he had so many faults, like how he kept pausing every moment, even now, when all she wanted was for him to do whatever he wanted to her, to not have to show him. She loved it though, for he cared so much and was so nervous about making her uncomfortable that he acted the way that he did. She loved his faults as much as she loved every single one of his endearing qualities.

It was, after all, quite simple. She loved him.

**(A/N: I hope you like this chapter! The past few chapters I've been struggling a lot to pull together but this one really simply just wrote itself. I also hope it wasn't too much – I know this is rated 'M' but I definitely don't want to write really explicit scenes. Speaking of which, do you all think I should bump this down to "T"? I'm not sure what type of turns my writing will take in the future but from these first seven chapters I feel it's going to stay around this level of vulgarity, although this doesn't feel vulgar to me! I think writing about the characters in a over-sexualized way would feel like I'm disgracing Jo and her original characters, when most certainly what I want to do is stay true to her characters.**

**Additionally, I apologize that this chapter was only Ron/Hermione- I can already hear the complaints I'll get!- but it felt like it needed to end where it did, to not take away from all of Hermione's self-realization and their love for each other. The next chapter is going to have a lot of Harry/Ginny moments while Ron and Hermione go to Australia.**

**Again, thank you so much for all of your reviews- they truly are what inspire me to write even through some of my rougher patches. I have some interesting plans coming up soon, but I'd love suggestions from you as well, for what you'd like to see in upcoming chapters, because nothing is set in stone. **

**Sorry for the long novel of an author's note! Review, favorite, add, do what y'all do.) **


	8. Pancakes

Hermione's eyelids fluttered open, and all at once the previous night came flooding back to her. She smiled. Even in the morning light- and it was late morning, she could tell by the golden light the bedroom was bathed in- she was not regretful, not remorseful. It had been perfect, just as she had wanted it to be. She rose out of bed and looked at Ron, who was snoring away, but somehow she didn't have it in her heart to be irritated at him for it like she was with Ginny.

She tiptoed around the room, collecting her clothes from the night before and slipping her bra on, along with one of Ron's old shirts, headed down the stairs.

"Shit." Hermione snickered a little, causing Harry, who was standing over the stove, to curse again and spin around, brandishing an old spatula in his hand like a weapon. Hermione walked over to him and looked at the stove, where in one pan there was pancake batter with the consistency of water and in another charred pieces of what Hermione could only assume had once been bacon. She looked at Harry, who looked thoroughly frustrated and thoroughly abashed. She smiled knowingly at him.

"So, Harry… what's for breakfast?" She knew it was mean, but she couldn't resist it- she was just so happy. He scowled playfully at her and fake punched her in the arm. Hermione immediately played into the game and pretended to be offended, crossing her arms and skulking away from the stove.

"Well I WAS going to ask if you wanted help with breakfast but if that's the way you're going to be-" She smiled and watched him poke helplessly at the pancake batter with the spatula. He let out a sigh.

"Hermione, I love you, you are the brightest, prettiest witch ever to grace me with their presence. Now will you please help me with breakfast?" The pathetic tone of voice Harry asked in warmed Hermione's already-faltering demeanor and she turned around, a smile on her red face.

"Of course, Harry. And I'll even tell Ginny you made it." Hermione raised an eyebrow at the stove. Normally she would've redone everything in the Muggle fashion, because Muggle cooking did taste much better, but it was already nearly 10 in the morning and she knew Ron would be up soon. She grabbed her wand out of the waistband of her shorts and started muttering incantations at the stove, and before long the bacon had become plump again and the pancake batter thick and in neat, round little circles. She heard Harry behind her sigh of relief and she laughed yet again as she hopped up on the counter, holding her knees to her chest and looking at Harry thoughtfully.

"I've missed this." Harry looked up at her as she spoke, and nodded, their mental connection almost as strong as his and Ginny's.

"You mean us, just…" He motioned vaguely to the kitchen and Hermione nodded, biting her lip before continuing.

"I mean, it's been just marvelous, all of us living here. But… well, we _do_ all live here and I feel as though I never see you anymore. Ginny pulls me away from Ron sometimes but mostly it's just…" Her cheeks turned a flaming scarlet. Thankfully, Harry seemed to have understood what she was trying to say because he nodded and went over, sitting on the counter next to Hermione. She rested her head on his shoulder and smiled, because she knew in her heart she'd made the right choice. As they sat there, there were no sparks, there was no chemistry, no fireworks, butterflies, or any number of other ridiculous memories. It was more like a childhood security blanket, enveloping her as she embarked on her next great adventure- finding her parents- and she knew in that moment what she would do. She sat up straight and looked him in his eyes, the color of emeralds, and spoke timidly.

"Harry?" Alerted by the weakness in her voice, when moments previously she'd been so exuberant, Harry looked at Hermione, a questioning look in his eyes. She continued before he even had a moment to ask what was wrong.

"Come to Australia with us." Harry looked at Hermione and his eyes widened a little. Hermione backtracked instantly.

"I mean, if you want… I don't… if you'd rather… I was merely… I just…" Harry smiled at her insane stuttering and pulled her into a hug.

"Of course, Hermione. I…" He looked down at the floor, a small speck of shame coloring his face as he let go of her. "I honestly was a little put off when Ron said it was only going to be the two of you. I mean I wasn't angry but…" He looked at her, willing to continue his thoughts for him as she had a knack of doing.

"It's always been the three of us hasn't it?" Harry nodded, glad that she understood. He threw a look towards the stairs before speaking in a quieter voice.

"What about… Ginny?" Hermione looked from Harry to the staircase to Harry again, trying to think about the best situation. She then raised an eyebrow.

"Well do you want her to come?" Hermione honestly didn't understand Harry and Ginny's relationship, no matter how much Ginny tried to explain it to her- it was more complex then she dared to try to comprehend. This, for example. Hermione knew Harry was completely smitten with Ginny, that he wouldn't give her up in a million years- he'd confided in her privately one night while Ron was gone while they were traveling the country, searching for Horcruxes, that on the rare nights he didn't dream Voldemort, he dreamt of he and Ginny, growing old, he and Ginny, having children, he and Ginny living their lives. At the time it had only made Hermione ache for Ron in such a lonely way that she dreaded even thinking about it, but it showed her how much he cared for her.

But now, he didn't even seem sure that he wanted her, the love of his life, coming with them to Austrailia. Harry answered her inquisition after what felt like a very long silence.

"I do, obviously. I mean I don't ever want to be apart from her if I don't have to be. But it's like… that part of my life, the part that made you bewitch your parents, the part that traveled around in a tent for a year, that was never the part that she was in. When we dated the first time in our sixth year, it was like…" He looked at the ceiling as Hermione began clearing the pans with her wand, not even paying attention to them, but to Harry, as he continued.

"It was like living on another planet. I wasn't thinking about school or Voldemort or death or anything. I was just thinking about how much I love her and how… happy, she makes me. She's never been there for this hard, painful part of my life. The part that I don't want to have her part of. I know she's strong enough. I know she can handle it. But I feel like if I bring her into all of it I'll be tainting her… I mean… I don't really know what I mean, quite honestly." As he finished, there was a sound of a throat clearing. Harry, who had his back to the staircase, looked at Hermione, panic in his eyes, and her eyes matched his, for when he turned around, who else was standing at the foot of the staircase than Ginny.

**(A/N: After the previous chapter being Harry/Ginny to balance out the Hermione/Ron, I thought it would be nice to have a Harry/Hermione chapter, because they still are the closest of friends and while this is a story of Harry/Ginny and Hermione/Ron relationships, it is primarily about all of them and their group dynamics, and I don't want to leave any relationship in the dust. Sorry it's kind of a filler chapter! Longer one coming, I promise.) **


	9. Sunrise

"Harry?"

Harry, who had been sitting on the beach, right out of the reach of the waves, turned around, seeing Ginny. He sighed a little and turned back to the sea. Ginny sighed and walked over to him, sitting next to him and resting a head on his shoulder. They sat like that for several moments before Ginny sat up and looked at Harry. Thrown off guard by the sudden movement, Harry instinctively looked at her too, but seeing the hurt in her eyes, the hurt put there by him, he looked away quickly. Ginny realized why, and let go of his arm before wrapping his arms around her knees and resting her chin on them. She laid her head on her knees then so she could study his face as she spoke.

"Please don't hate me." Ginny hadn't known what she was going to say when she had seen Harry sitting out here, and she'd come out, but it wasn't that. She'd been expecting to tell him off for acting so stupid inside. Harry, too, looked taken aback by her words and for the first time he looked her in the eye.

"I don't hate you, Gin. I… I love you." Ginny smiled. They'd been back together a month and had told each other they loved each other several times but it still brought a warmth to her cheeks, butterflies in her stomach, every time he said it, no matter what the context.

"I just…" He sighed, looking out at the horizon again. It was near midnight, the moon high in the sky, stars twinkling everywhere. He grabbed her hand as he spoke, and Ginny held his hand tightly. She wished he was better with words- it pained her not to know what he was thinking. She wanted to know, she wanted to fix it. She'd been so utterly useless to Harry… she wasn't scared of loosing him romantically to anyone else. She was confident enough in their relationship to not constantly be worrying he'd find someone better, like Hermione was with Ron. But she hated how she was still, even now, out of their clique.

She and Harry had spent many nights lying in bed, talking in depth about Voldemort, the Horcruxes, everything that had happened in the past year and really the past seven years. But still, there was an aching in Ginny's heart, because Ron and Hermione had gone through every single moment with him and she had been stuck at home, stuck at Hogwarts, stuck everywhere, not able to participate fully, not there to be scared for their lives. It wasn't merely that she longed for the adventure, although there was a part of her, her firey spirit, that did long for adventure- she just wanted to have shared the moments Ron and Hermione had.

She knew they understood Harry more fully, in a way that she would never be able to, even if they were together fourty years with children and a house and a life and a family, which Ginny dearly hoped to have someday. She could never be able to comprehend exactly what the three had gone through and she envied Ron and Hermione in the most awful way, because she wanted to be the only one Harry was connected with in that extreme, deep level. As it was now, if Ron or Hermione was there, they would almost definitely be able to tell what was eating away at Harry's gut. All Ginny could do was sit there, clutching his hand foolishly like a little girl. She scooted closer to him and leaned on him again, trying to get him to open up, showing him that she was there, at least as much as she possibly could be.

After what felt like years, much to Ginny's surprise and happiness, Harry began speaking, still staring straight ahead.

"I'm not mad at you, about the Quidditch thing." He laughed dryly. "Frankly I'm thrilled for you. I mean, it's your dream. I knew that." He sighed a little, rubbing circles into Ginny's hand with his thumb, trying to form what he was thinking into comprehensible sentences.

"It's just, I mean, you're going to be at practices, Hermione's going back to Hogwarts… Ron and I talked for a long time about going to Auror training, we have to have special training since we're missing our N.E.W.T.S, you know, and there's only two a year, and one happened a week ago and the next isn't until February. And Ron wanted to go to the one this summer, but I talked him out o it.. talked him into all four of us just taking a year off, living like this." He motioned vaguely to the house around him.

"Without worrying about anything. I somewhat suspected Hermione would go back to school and Ron probably did subconsciously too, but I…" He looked at her for the first time and Ginny was surprised to see pain in his eyes.

"I thought I would have you this year." Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, moved nearly to tears by his speech.

"Harry, you WILL have me. I've decided to say yes to the Hollyhead Harpies but I've told them I'll take no special treatment. I'm only an alternate! I'm only going to two practices a week and they're only from 10 to 4." She looked up at him, and he was smiling. Ginny smiled back and continued.

"So see? I'll be home all the time. And I've been talking to Ron… he's going to go help George in the shop on weekdays, from 9 till 3." Harry's eyes widened.

"Th… That means… you and I… we'll… well, three days a week we'll have the entire house to ourselves all day then?" Ginny nodded, excitement bubbling up in her throat. She honestly had known she'd accept the Holyhead Harpies position for a while and she'd also known about Ron, but she had just now, sitting here with Harry, put all the pieces together and realized the same thing has him. Joy leaped up in her heart, because having days on end to spend with Harry, without and concern as to where they were, what they were doing, who saw them… was the most beautiful thing she could begin to picture. She sat up straight and kissed him full on the mouth with such enthusiasm that he fell back and they were sprawled out on the sand.

They kissed for a while and then just lay there, Ginny lying on Harry's chest, listening to his heartbeat and breathing in and out with the comfortable rise and fall of his chest. He had his arm around her, and she could feel his eyes on her, studying her with the intensity he had. It used to make her nervous, but now she loved it. She felt cared about, like someone really appreciated her for who she was instead of trying to turn her into a boy.

Ginny turned her head a little so she was speaking in the general direction of Harry's face.

"You don't always need to protect me, you know." Harry sighed and Ginny could tell he knew what she meant. He rubbed her back a little bit, and she could practically feel him pondering his answer before he came out with it. That was something that irritated Ginny to the highest possible extreme. She felt as though she never got a direct answer with Harry, as though he screened every single one of his thoughts before he let it go to her. She blinked her eyes at him and bit her lip before she spoke again, not wanting to ignite his temper, but knowing something needed to be said.

"And I really just wish you would… tell me what you're thinking. Without mulling it over, I mean. I feel like you're rarely just… you, with me." She laid back down on his chest, inhaling his scent.

"You can be, you know. I'm not a baby anymore. While you all were off hunting damn Horcruxes life wasn't exactly _easy_ at Hogwarts, mind you I was there till Easter." Ginny turned her head away from Harry so he couldn't see the tears that were beginning to prick at her eyes.

"I mean I know you're going to say, Neville and Luna and I, and the others, we didn't have to disobey, we didn't have to write all those messages and everything.." She sighed. "But it was the only thing that kept the morale alive in the slightest. I mean it… the dementors were there all the time, it felt hopeless all the time, it seemed easy, like it'd be easier to just… Surrender." She felt Harry stiffen under her but kept talking, knowing it was something he needed to hear.

"We all felt it. It was something entirely new. Not only did the dementors make us mental, make us feel like life was worthless, but they made us feel like we should just join You-Know-Who." She paused a moment before adding "Voldemort." She could practically feel Harry's eyes boring in to the back of her skull but she continued nonetheless, knowing that the next bit would be the hardest to tell him.

"The dementors, their hopelessness that they brought, it was worse too. Worse than it was in my second year- your third- when they first came. They made me want to die." She blinked a few tears away, her gut hurting even remembering the way they'd made her feel.

"There wasn't any escape from them either. They were everywhere on the grounds, outside every class window, just… hanging there, sucking any happiness or joy out of everyone. I… I honestly thought about jumping out of the Gryffindor window. Ending it. But… Harry, thinking about you, thinking about how you were fighting…" She smiled shakily even though he couldn't see her face. "Thinking that there was maybe even a chance that you would still want to be with me, when you defeated him, and I knew you would eventually, gave me hope that the dementors never sucked out of me. You kept me going through it all. But it wasn't worth anything, all the months of torture and fighting, if you're going to shut me out like this.

"I suffered too. A lot. Maybe not as much as you and Ron and Hermione did, and maybe I will never understand you on the level that they do and I guess I'm coming to terms with that in a way. But Harry you have _got_ to stop trying to protect me all the time. I am tougher and more resilient than you could ever pretend to comprehend."

Ginny took a deep breath, finishing her rant, and they laid there in silence for at least 20 minutes before Harry spoke.

"I promise to tell you what I'm thinking from now on. It just… it… sometimes it scares me, what I see when I close my eyes." Ginny sat up, for there was a vulnerability in Harry's voice that she was unused to. She looked in his eyes, and behind the pools of green she was so completely in love with she saw a pain, not the kind she'd seen the day of the battle, when she had been able to comfort him, but a kind more hidden, more permanent kind of pain, one that delved into Ginny's heart and pained her. She leaned down so her nose was nearly touching Harry's and they hovered there for a moment, tears on both of their faces.

"I love you, Harry. Nothing can change that." And then she kissed him, not with any urgency or passion but with a sweet tenderness that she dearly hoped showed Harry that she did love him. She knew in that moment that she could completely give herself to him. She could not see herself with anyone else. She loved him completely and unequivocally. He kissed her back with matched softness, and after they broke apart, they lay there.

Ginny laid on Harry's chest the rest of the night, both of them talking about a little bit of everything- her favorite flower (wildflowers, because no one else liked them but she thought they were the most beautiful thing ever) his favorite color (spice brown, because of the color of her eyes) where he wanted to go on vacation, why she loved rain, and so on, until Ginny gasped a little and wriggled one arm free of Harry's to point to the horizon, where the sky was turning a light pink and the sun was rising.

"Harry, we've stayed out all night!" Harry raised his eyebrow a little and laughed. Ginny giggled too, at the sheer bliss of the moment.

"Strange, we did. I'm not tired at all." And she wasn't. She relished every moment she spent with him, and couldn't believe, even now, that he was hers. The boy she'd been so taken with since she first met him… and he was hers.


End file.
